23 - 26.09.2011

We hitchike towards the mountains in the North. A man with his sister drive us to Akhmeta. They tell us they need to buy petrol, but we dont pass a gas station. At Akhmeta we take a short break by a shop, sitting on the side of the road in the sun, while the man drives off to attend some business in the city. A car with three men pulls up, one of which gets out, gives us a large honey melon, gets back in the car and drives away. We look at each other laughing at the random event of generosity, which you encounter so often in countries of this region. A fruit of paradise it is, sweater than honey, absolutely juicy and refreshing. Several minutes later the man with his sister pulls up again and proposes to give us a ride further on.

We soon find out that they still haven't bought petrol. The road is bumpy and at one point the man stops the car. He fears the fuel tank is leaking and starts to screw out the whole thing out of the back of the car. We see the rust covering it. We ask how we can help, but the man assures us that he will be just fine, stops the next passing truck and tells the truck driver to take us onward. We leave the man and his sister in the middle of nowhere with a few drops of fuel left in a leaking, rusty tank.

The truck driver takes us past the turquoise Zhinvali reservoir deep into the mountains where we get off to camp for the evening at a river. At night Max and I share travel experiences and our views about Life, and Max tells the story of his brother Ian, Ian Neumegen, who had assisted the secretary's office of the Supreme Patriarch of Thailand after having been a monk for two years. Highly learned in the ancient Asiatic languages, he had translated ancient and modern Buddhistic texts and had written a book for the royal family of Thailand, "The Rudiments of Mental-Collectedness", on how to govern a country, and essentially your own life, spiritually. Ian had just been preparing a program for teaching the ancient Asian languages to westerners, when he was shot in the back of the head as he was leaving the Wat Trithosathep monastery in Bangkok on May 18th May, 1992, during the Black May riots against the government of Thailand.

http://2bangkok.com/2bangkok-blackmay-blackmay05.html

Max recalls his brother saying to him:

"When one speaks of the nature of enlightenment, he is not enlightened. I remember Ian saying to me that in the end its all bullshit; all the different branches of the countless religions and faiths. That, which truly matters can in no way be described or be written about."

I recall Tony Parsons from London, one of who's meetings I have once attended. To paraphrase him:

"Religions and spiritual teachings tend towards strengthening the sense of individuality, the sense that there is something grand to attain by the individual called heaven or enlightenment. They detract from the fact that the apparent individual IS already All, that it was never anything else but the One Life itself."

http://www.theopensecret.com/

Throughout the trip Max continues to provide valuable hints on authors, their ideas and places to visit. I am very grateful for his company.

The next morning we pack up our things and go back towards the road leading deeper into the mountains. We wave at a van on the road while we are still far away walking towards it. It waits for us and takes us towards Shatili. We stop at the village with the last shop before the deeper mountains, where we meet Laureene together with a group of 17 couchsurfers going our direction parallel to our trip in another van.

We continue over the 2700m pass separating North from South Khevsureti. The driver stops the van as we are going down to let the smoking breaks cool off. In the distance we see the first guard tower. The towers here originate from around 800AD onwards, have a distinct architectural style and in contrast to those in Svaneti most of these have not been restored. We get out of the van and walk towards the tower. It sits perched on top of a hill, mute, but mysteriously expressive like the heads from the Easter Islands. I climb the hill among some cattle and see a shepherds dog on the far side of the herd on the other side of the hill. It sees me and runs full speed towards me, ears set back, teeth fletched, ready for attack. In a fraction of a second: . . . I think this dog will never bite me . . . it pounces at my calf and bites full power . . . I start to walk fast down the hill, shocked . . . it bites my other calf, I hear my trousers rip . . . I continue walking fast and the dog remains behind, atop the hill, doing its job, protecting the heard, barking. My knees are jelly, I stretch my muscles, all is fine, the calves bruised and cut, with shallow bite marks only. I assure Monika and Max that this is so.

We pass Shatili and Mutso and arrive at the end of the road, the tiny village of Ardoti lying high above in the mountains. The drivers of the van are waiting for horse-riders to bring cheese and vegetable produce from the remote villages in the area. These will be brought back to and sold in Tblisi. The couchsurfers group equally reach this spot, and as planned, we all set up camp together. Before it gets dark, Monika, Laureene and I hike up towards Ardoti. I initially think it is all ruins, with nobody living up there, but we encounter Niko, a man of 37, who lives there alone with his dog, receiving foreign guests once in a while. I get the impression of a simple good natured man living a peasant life. He tells us that he lives here alone and that he tends his own vegetable plot, but that he also reads a lot and writes. Next to him there is only one other house inhabited in the village, that of his uncles family. It turns out that Niko had studied philosophy in Tblisi, that his Sister works as a doctor in London and that he writes and publishes books and articles about Caucasian history and philosophy.

"Here I can be in peace. I have the mountains, nature and God. What more do I need?"

The breadth of his fingers astonishes me. His hands are massive, used to the manual labor necessary to maintain oneself up here.

The following day Laureene, Max, Monika, a young local and myself hike from Ardoti to Mutso, perched high upon the valley side. The impression is truly majestic, the buildings, made of most precisely piled up slate stones, seem to breath the life of their ancient inhabitants. On the way up we see overground crypts in which bones and skulls can clearly be seen. Evidently the black death was not hindered by the Caucasus mountains and took its toll even here. Those that were infected were left to die in these small stone buildings.

What made the people invest such incredible amounts of time a labor to erect such fortifications in this inaccessible region? Apparently the clans from the different villages were regularly engaged in some sort of feuds. Would it not by far be more efficient to simply move down the valley, to walk for several days or eveen weeks to evade the conflicts and pass on to land in the south? How does such a move compare to decades if not centuries of quarrying and transporting slate stone and building, in what seems to be the most time-costly of ways, huge fortified houses, towers and castles, in positions, which make the experienced mountaineer go out of breath to reach them? I stand among the ruins, gaze and try to relate to the life of these people. Is it not the love for the country, the nature, the very soil? The pride of being the indigenous people of this region for times untold? The dignity of remaining unshaken in your rightful home in the face of the toughest pressure? I understand that it is indeed far more than just technological achievements and the flow if time that separate us from the inhabitants of this part of the earth 1200 years ago. The driving factors, the motivations of these people were far different than that of the people modern urban societies.

We make our way through the labyrinth of ruins to the top where we are told by the indigenous young man that is accompanying us, that we are not allowed to come close to the church on the very top and that it is forbidden to take any photographs. Another Georgian visitor explains that the area of this church is held sacred by the Khevsurs and that no visitor may enter it. We climb a bit further and come in view of the church. It is a small dark room, made of the same slate stone, that the rest of the village is made of, not discernible as a place of worship, were it not for the slender hand-made, gold-plated cross hanging imperfectly above the entrance. I acknowledge the atmosphere; it leaves an impression. I feel relief. I have arrived at a place, the power of which the indigenous do not permit to be profaned by the busy tourist schedules, the essence of which cannot be captured by any means of technology.

The same group of men that took us to Ardoti the day before, take us from Mutso back to the plains. We decide to camp at the Zhinvali Reservoir for the night and the men invite us for dinner at a small private kitchen by the water. Max raises toast after toast with the local grape vodka, Chacha and sleeps until 12:00 next day. While Max is curing himself, Monika and I hitchike to the Ananuri fortress by the reservoir. After half an hour or so we exit the fortress and a car stops immediately as we stretch out our thumbs, still on the other side of the street; It is the same two men that brought us here, driving back from business in a nearby village. I learn of Monika's passion for dance, and learn more of her own quest to infuse love in relationships and surroundings, seeking challenge and adventure and a just and truthful way of life. A powerful and bright individual she is.

We return in the evening to Mika's place in Tblisi. There we meet Sareina from Switzerland, which is planning to work at Jean-Jacques farm, which I am planning to return to. She has taken a gap year off her medical studies, feeling the deadness of the routine and monotony.

"I know this is not the right thing for me at the moment. I know I have to live and experience. The Caucasus has long been on my mind, since my childhood."

Sareina and her friends were working on the establishment of a social center in Zurich, which would function as a center from which projects for positive social change would be initiated. The circle of friends went separate ways eventually and the project dissolved. Now as she was coming to Georgia, she heard of Mika's plans and immediately joined him. Mika does not seem to be ready to commit fullheartedly at the moment. Countless ideas bubble forth from him, but on none he manages to settle yet.

16 - 22.09.2011

Jean-Jacques picks me up from Tblisi, together with Christoph, who came over from Switzerland six days ago. Jean-Jacques is starting a biodynamic farm in Arghokhi, a small village near Telavi in eastern Georgia. Jean-Jacques has started small, is growing his own vegetables and his own wheat, making bread himself. Jean-Jacques and Christoph are propelled by grand ideals of using the earth around the village to its fullest potential, to be far more than self-sufficient, to produce organic food from animal and plant species which have long been neglected in the economic rush towards high yields. Christoph studied Agrosciences, is a farm manager in the Swiss alps and is now most potently infusing know-how, ideas and funds into the budding project. The two reach out far and wide, connect to other local farmers, funding bodies, teachers and the government. Both are most strongly tied to the Anthroposophical movement, and speak of the fabulously energetic meetings at the Anthroposophical center in Dornach. I meet the two at a point of explosion where visions start to manifest physically and ideals start to become tangible. The ideals, which have been crystallizing in my own awareness suddenly encounter their own manifestation.

Christl and Rheiner from Germany come to join the work at the farm. They are in Georgia for vacation and back at home they work with mentally handicapped people, helping them in their daily life. I have never experienced people so dedicated to make the life of the handicapped as fair and close to "social reality" as possible. Among other things they have, as does Christoph, let the handicapped carry out farm work as a type of therapeutics.

Timothee from France comes to the farm to join the work. He is traveling by foot and has just finished his degree in journalism. He is planning to report on the life in the Nagorno-Karabakh region between Armenia and Azerbejan. We share travel experiences and he tells me of the tribe of the Mentawai, which live in almost complete isolation in the way their ancestors did on an island near Sumatra. He had spent months living with them with his sister and describes his experience:

"The people there are free, there are no rules, everybody can do what they want. There is only the need to obtain food. They live off the fruits of the jungle. If it rains excessively one day they may decide to stay at home and not work. The work can be done the next day after all. All decisions are reached by all-inclusive discussions. The smallest children are included up to the eldest. The opinion of everybody is taken into account and respected."

"And what Jean-Jacques is doing here is a model for the 'modern world' to return to such a state" I add.

"The notion of Utopia cannot be applied to such modern emerging communities. I don't like the word community. 'Community' implies exclusiveness." Timothee rightly states in one of our evening discussions.

I build upon it: "Only out of the spiritual understanding of Oneness among the people flows the appropriate manifestation of society, a physical Utopia. Of a necessity this Utopia is ultimately all-inclusive, because the Awareness which gives birth to it is all-embracing. Therefore we cannot speak of single model communities, when we talk of Utopia, but must talk of every single being on this planet."

Jean-Jacque, overhearing our discussion at night, takes out a book from his library for us to look at at our leisure: "The Sekem Vision" by Ibrahim Abouleish. It describes a model society in Egypt, completely autonomous in terms of healthcare and pension system, all infrastructure and food resources. Even a University is established there. The founder was himself an anthroposophist and the life is dictated by the spiritual ideals of Love, Peace and Unity. He started from a 100 hectare patch of desert land on which he had to drill 30 meter wells for water. Biodynamic farming has now completely transformed the land to an oasis, the community provides education and numerous working places and various businesses, functioning internationally, have emerged from it.

We visit the first international wine symposium in Goergia, where Jean-Jacque refreshes contacts with local and international farmers, some of them practicing biodynamic farming, and where I learn about the ancient traditional way of making wine in clay amphores. On the farm I cut firewood, crack hazelnuts for selling and together with Reihner and Christl prepare a large wild plot of earth in the vegetable garden for sowing out garlic, ridding it of its plants and hoeing it. Timothee and I mix clay for varnishing the walls of the future bread bakery. Jean-Jacque's bread is for gourmets: I am at first convinced he adds cinnamon to it, so intense is the smell and taste; Isabelle Legeron 'That Crazy French Woman', on visiting the farm one day, is convinced that hazelnuts have been added to the dough; none of this is the case; it is superficially always the same dough: Wheat flower, yeast culture and water, that is all that there is to it physically. As to the energetic constituents, the work of consciousness, which flows into the baking process, Jean-Jacque reserves a fleeting smile.

A creative and tranquil atmosphere is established on the farm. On Thursday evening Max, Mika, Gela and Monika suddenly arrive, surprising everybody. They camp out in the garden for one night and the following day Monika, Max and I decide to hitchike to the remote mountain region of Khevsureti. I have met Max earlier on in Tblisi. He has joined George Cunningham (see book: "Journey to Become a Diplomat") in 1979 on an expedition for peace from North to South Africa, but has left George mid-way, remaining at Tom Mboya Memorial Health Centre in Kenya. He is now traveling with the aim to return to Kenya and contribute with his professional nursing experience.

 

 

13 - 15.09.2011

I join three other travelers from the "house for all" to go to the famous sulphur baths of Tblisi. I am tired and hungry and get somewhat impatient while waiting for one of the group to join us. I want to go to the baths fast to have something to eat afterwards and don't expect anything special from going there.

On finally entering one of the bath complexes I marvel at the mosaic floors and ceilings. Men and women enter nude into separate halls. A pungent smell of old eggs greets me on entering the bathing hall. I am delighted: this is real! One showers with the hot sulphur water and on entering the bath every single cell of the body switches to instant meditation. Its like an enormous physical weight has been lifted off the body. I am told that a man recently died here from heart failure. The atmosphere is necessarily absolutely relaxed. I feel one-hundred-fold repaid for waiting. I was planning to leave the next day to an organic farm in the east; now I am ready to remain in Tblisi for another week.

In the changing hall tea or vodka are offered. While changing, a man asks me whether I liked the baths. I tell him that it makes me think of what I know of the social life of ancient Greece in which the public baths and gymnasiums were a central point of meeting relaxing and socializing, all nude, with no barriers, where homage was paid to the natural beauty, strength and health of the human body.

"People today forget about the importance of relaxing" David replies "They continue blindly in their course of actions. But without relaxation they cease to be productive and loose their sense of direction."

You talk to countless people over the course of the week, month or year perhaps, but sometimes, in rare occasions, you may encounter an expression, a phrase, which hits you, which really penetrates right down to your center. Davids expression in the moment does just that. I let it remain in awareness to digest, to let it spread, give shoots and grow.

"It is like breathing" I add "You need to breath in to be able to breath out."

"To be able to really relax; It is a big secret in fact." David says.

David is an opera singer at the Tblisi Opera. He live and sang in London for 16 years.

The following day decide to visit Mtskheta, few kilometers north of Tblisi, the Vatican of the Georgian Orthodox church. I encounter a town which looks like a movie is about to be shot there. The facades are brand new and not a person seems to inhabit the rooms behind them. Vistors are lead in a neat, sterile path from the huge parking lot to the Svetitskhoveli Cathedral. The Jvari Church overlooking Mtskheta from a hill in contrast retains a unique atmosphere. It was erected on the place of an ancient Zoroastrian temple.

I hitchike back to Tblisi with Stefan Waldner from Vienna, a psychiatrist. He seems touched by my experiences of traveling.

"It is great to hear of life-styles and communities apart from the mainstream homogeneity. It reminds me that society actually functions on many levels, that it is structured vertically, as well as horizontally." he says.

"What do you mean with vertical and horizontal structure?"

"Well, in the mainstream society..."

"...that which is shaped by the images of media..." I interject

"...yes that is truly so...in this society the movements one does are very much limited, bound so to say, to the same layer, the horizontal plane. This is the same on any other level of society of course, since all such levels or groupings need to retain homogeneity."

"Why so? I would think that homogeneity is exactly what many of these groupings are in opposition to?" I ask

"Well no. A degree of homogeneity is normal, its essential, otherwise these groups would simply be absorbed in a grouping which expresses some degree of it. Its the definition of the group, however strict or lax this homogeneity might be."

Stefan talks of his own life-experience:

"I find myself upholding several circles of acquaintances, living and interacting in several spheres of ideals and world-views. Perhaps the largest challenge is to coordinate these in life."

"The key is integration" I reply "And the sole element through which integration occurs is your Self."

"That is definitely so."

"Only the intellect compartmentalizes and conceptualizes. I would say that there is in fact no opposition, or separation between the circles of friends and spheres of thought you seem to move about in."

"But none-the-less there are certain forms one needs to conform to if one wants to be part of a particular grouping. I imagine for example that I would have my difficulties in being instantly recognized as one of the members in an event like the Rainbow Gathering. The forms of different groupings may be in stark opposition to one another." Stefan says

I smile "The very definition of such communities and gatherings, which are defined by a 'hippie-philosophy', is the total and absolute respect for and acceptance of all forms and mentalities, as long as these are not opposed to the foundation of love, peace and respect. You would never be seen as somebody 'outside' in the Rainbow Gathering, no matter what your form, behavior or appearance might be."

07 – 12.09.2011

The Russian traveller, mountaineer and author Anton Krotov had first rented a house in Moscow and had started to provide it other travellers for free, for as long as they wanted to stay. Such a ‘House for All’ was now opened by his friend Marat in Tblisi. He stays in it himself, going out on hikes and longer expeditions in the Caucasus mountains. Dejan and I move to the apartment and get to know Olesja from the Ukraine. She is going to China to teach English. We talk of the power of the will and of the contrast between life in the city and life in nature.

“Yes, sometimes this awareness comes to me that I am not something apart from my surroundings, that all of this is actually me,” she says “and it is usually the strongest in nature.”

Dejan leaves towards Erzurum, Turkey, the next day, to pick up his Visa for Iran there and he gladly accepts the opportunity to stay at the Selemiye Apartami. I meet Laureene from Uganda. She is planning to go to India too and is seeking to find a lasting inner piece.

“I want this inner peace, you know? We talk and think of God so superficially and don’t understand what is actually meant. I want to be able to actually talk to him, to sense his reality.”

Laureene’s wish is to work for peace and equality and to work with the UN or influential NGOs for this sake.

Mika sends out an invitation to his place on couchsurfing to all nearby travellers for a brainstorming session on the topic of founding a social center, a freethinking space. I come to the address and meet Masha, whom I had met at the ‘Boombullys beach hostel in Batumi, standing in the doorway. She leads me inside. Three friends are just starting to paint the walls and don’t say much at all. The plan is to open a Rasta Café. I am assured it has nothing to do with a Coffee Shop, but am somewhat disappointed about this meeting, that Mika had promised to be a brainstorming session for opening a social center. Nobody seems to know Mika either. We talk for a while until I get a call from Mika, who tells me that his place is actually one number further down the street. He does not know anything about the Rasta Café.

It turns out that I have written Mika several weeks ago from Turkey to ask him whether he could host me. At the time he was still travelling and had to refuse. He had changed his name online, but is now emphatically inviting me to stay at his place. The meeting is energetic, the people fresh and open. Mika came back from 10 years of travelling and now wishes to give something back to society. He wants to create a productive network, a place for people to exchange ideas and initiate projects for raising awareness, a place for workshops and seminars to be held, a place for dance, music and alternative movies to be shown, a place for travellers to come for free, rest and share their experiences. He is booming with ideas and is spreading out his antennae all around the world, freshening up connections and inviting people over to Tblisi with whom he could start an NGO. He had already planned to propose to the Georgian government the project of using the border between Georgia and Abkhazia as a buffer zone in which a peaceful community project could be initiated, being self-sustainable through agriculture and providing a transformative interface between both groups of people through its international and open-minded inhabitants. The project fell for now, but the energy lives. Mika speaks of founding such a community where the borders of Armenia, Georgia and Azerbejan meet. He mentions desolate villages in Spain being bought by young people to initiate such self-sustaining communities. We remember the Kibutz’ in Israel and ‘house-projects’ in Leipzig. 

Several from the group meet again in the following days. Monika from Lithuania is studying politics and international relations and is writing her thesis on what role Anarchism plays in Utopian communities, whether theoretical or extant. She refers to philosophical treatises as well as the various religious or agricultural communities around the globe. Mateusz from Poland is studying Philosophy and together we arrive at the conclusion that one can only be truly convinced of something if that individual comes to the conclusion on his own accord. Gela thinks practically, ready to initiate the necessary steps for starting a new business, getting the right supplies or founding an NGO.

The truthful and selfless mindset is what we all understand to be a prerequisite for a peaceful and loving community.

“We are prone to reflect the attitudes which we are faced with.” Says Gela “If one talks to a person of angry, sarcastic or generally negative mindset, he will usually reflect just this type of energy back. But if you live and act consciously you simply absorb such a vibe and continue to radiate positive energy undisturbed.”

“We are like transformers of energy.” I recall the words I have once heard. “Whatever we encounter in thought, emotion or physical surroundings, we have the power in every moment to transmute into positive vibrations.”

Gela speaks: “And deeper insights, flashes of enlightenment come time and again, in moments where all thinking stops, but we are simply not strong enough to hold that state. Most people, having had such an experience, slip back, thoughts come rushing back and the limited personality resumes. But something remains and propels the personality onwards. We all ultimately strive towards enlightenment, towards becoming a Bodhisattva, a being more than human, whether consciously or not. Having become this we choose whether we return to this earth to help humanity or whether we continue upwards. But you see, consciousness, experience, understanding cannot be transmitted. Everybody has to come to it solely by his own efforts. If I taste an apple and describe to you how it tastes, you cannot understand. You have to take the apple and taste for yourself.”

I smile and gaze: “Yet nonetheless there is something incredibly positive created when people come together and share. The energies add up and potentiate exponentially.”

02 – 06.09.2011

We continue to Mestia and arrive late in the night. In the mountain villages of Svaneti each family had an independent defensive tower in the middle ages, which it inhabited. These towers formed the village and most of them have survived until today. They now rise out of a massive construction site, which Mestia has become. The Georgian government is investing millions into the tourism industry. We climb to the Koruldi lakes on Mt. Ushba, away from the dust and noise. And retreat to the tree line for the night. The views are astounding, the air is fantastic, the flora highly diverse.

Dejan speaks of his experiences with magic mushrooms and LSD: “Most people remain stuck in this “Wow-phase”. Seldom do people start to take the experience into their own hands and start to form it themselves, to explore and to consciously go deeper. The experiences are a tool for insight and progress.”

Through the contact with the church of Santo Daime in Switzerland Dejan eventually tried Ayawhuasca. In line with the numerous reports I have come across earlier, Dejan spoke of his experiences as utterly groundbreaking.

“If you have lived through a full Ayawhuasca experience, you are ready for everything and anything”

This brew made of several South American tropical plants enables the individual to experience that, which will eventually come to all in the process of  natural evolution. It enables one to view behind the veil of nature and it opens up the experience of Universal Oneness. In contrast to natural attainment this induced state fades of course. It was traditionally used by Shamans during rituals and a strongly related mixture is to be found among the Shamanic traditions of central Africa. Most inspiringly Dejan has now left the substances of his own conviction, seeking the deeper sense of Life in the natural experience of daily life. Reading “My Big Toe” by Thomas Campbell was key to this transformation.

Dejan has started playing the Bansuri at the beginning of May. His teacher was a student of Hariprasad Chaurasia. He has quit his job as an IT technician and is now going to India to learn with a Master his teacher told him of. Dejan practices daily and the flow of his melodies give the impression that he is already a well-advanced student. You can explore his own travel-blog here: http://eonstravelblog.wordpress.com/

Intermittent rain, the cold and the lack of appropriate gear lead us to return to lower Svaneti. We spend a night on the pastures above Pari, a truly rural Caucasian village. The contact with the people there is surprisingly natural. There is not the slightest feeling of being a foreigner, a tourist. People here accept you immediately simply as a human and in the short contacts I feel a friendly lack of boundaries, despite the fact that these people have little to do with the craze of the ‘sophisticated,’ high-speed, high-tech society of the West.

We make our way to Zugdidi and plan to continue to Tblisi. We have already hitchhiked out of the city when I remember that I left Dejans phone in the internet café we visited shortly. We get out of the car to hitchhike back again. A man, his cousin and sister take us back towards Zugdidi. Saveri is drunk and he emphatically invites us to his place for the night. We communicate in a mix of broken English, Italian, Polish and Russian and understand that today the man has become a father. His wife is in the hospital and he has gotten the message earlier in the day that his son was born. Tomorrow he is going to the hospital, but today in the evening he is celebrating with family and friends.

We enter an old house in the outskirts of Zugdidi. The family was living in it for over 100 years. The water comes from a hanging bucket with a whole at the bottom that is plugged with a loose nail from the top. The toilet is basically a sheltered whole in the backyard. Many vegetables are grown in the garden. We get a feel for Georgian hospitality; simple, tasty food is eaten, house-made wine is drunk in copious amounts and we are the center of interest among the family members. The groups mood sways many times from extreme enthusiasm to deep and true melanchoy in a matter of seconds, as toasts are raised several times first to God, Georgia or Peace and then to Saveri’s brother who has died in an accident. Saveri’s message of the evening is clear: he emphasizes repeatedly, visibly enjoying the wine, that we are all brothers: no matter from which country, no matter of which religion, we are all human and are all equal.

Late at night Dejan and I leave and ask at a gas station where we could set up our tents. Goga invites us to his garden, a 5 minute walk from the gas station. We share our stories and he invites us to his house for breakfast next morning. We continue over Kutaisi to Tblisi and stay at the fresh and peaceful “Art Hostel”.

31.08.2011 - 01.09.2011

The following day I pass Artvin and cross the Turkish-Georgian border. Cicadas start to be heard again. The climate now seems almost sub-tropical. I leave the gloomy Turkish border-crossing, with Turkish soldiers observing the happenings from watchtowers and enter the Georgian border-crossing, the architecture of which transplants me to science-fiction.

I have left a country in which most people still live in the country-side and and are more or less dependent on relatively unmechanised agriculture; strangers and foreigners are welcomed most heartfully and the locals almost anywhere do anything to help you in whatever situation you might be in. I leave, having learnt that there is actually an active Sufi-school in Istanbul, staying true to its roots and welcoming all, that surprisingly many people here do not hesitate to express their admiration to Hitler (?!), that I have actually missed the magical beauty of the "Rainbow Gathering" in mid-August and that real faith is an active and positive power in this country found side by side to the hypocrisy of using religion as a tool for power.

Barely have I crossed the border on foot, do I pass through the little coastal town of Sarpi. House music is heard from the beach and many people can be seen coming to spend time here and going for a swim. Something strikes me as being utterly different from the atmosphere I have experienced in the country I have just left. It takes some moments until I realize what it is. Everybody is walking around in shorts and bathing suits. The women walk freely, openly, laugh, and play, consciously or uncoscioussly, with their radiation. But men equally, naturally assuming the counterpart of this energy, seem lively and playful, contributing to the relaxed holiday-like atmosphere. Signs and commercials everywhere greet me with an alien alphabet. It binds my attention, it fascinates and I wish to learn it.

I continue to Batumi. It is evening and the bedazzling show of lights, fountains, neat parks and pompous and futuristic architecture, create an impression of copious wealth. At the ‘Boombully’s Beach Hostel’ I meet Dejan from Serbia and Montenegro. He lived and worked in Switzerland most of his life. We have just met:

“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” I ask

“Im going to Mestia in Svaneti, there’s a music festival there on the 3rd”

It the first place I planned to visit myself.

“You know what? impulsively, spontaneously I say I’ll join you; that is if you don’t mind of course”

“Sure, but you must know that I don’t plan. I go with the flow; take things as they come. I’ll go to the bus station to check if a bus comes. If not, I’ll go by other means.” Dejan answers

“Perfect, that’s just how I travel.”

“Good, so we’re in the same movie.”

Indeed we sense that this is so.

“So what do you think is our mission here?” Dejan asks

“Both of ours, the groups mission at the hostel, or that of humanity?” I wish to clarify

“Well, generally, why are we all here on earth?”

“I reiterate what I have said to Robert in Kemaliye: “We are not here to realize WHY we are here. Our mission is to realize THAT we actually are; to realize how deep and real our personal existence actually is; To embrace all of life’s fascets to their fullest, but to wisely and intelligently distil from among all of these, to distil from the extremes, the Sense of Universal Existence. On widening this consciousness all questions of ‘why’ start to dissolve. The essence of your being IS the answer”

Dejan thinks out loud: “If we at our essence are This already, if the One Existence is perfect, all-embracing, infinite and whole, where is there room left for evolution? It is then just the illusion of evolution from our point of view, this process in which the individual entities slowly realize their oneness with the Universe.”

I add “From our limited human perspective, once we have realized our unity with Life there can be no more question of progress; We have arrived, we have finished our journey. However there is of course progress and continuation. Within this absolute bliss of realized Oneness there is a further way. It just lies utterly outside of the capacity of human consciousness to conceive. The human stage is merely one part of an infinite chain of spiritual evolution. To us the end of OUR part seems like a state of infinite, eternal and omniscient Perfection.”